


For Warmth

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Darcy Lewis, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cabin Fic, F/M, Fluff and Smut, ShieldShock - Freeform, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Strangers to Lovers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 19:46:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18581359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: Prompt: Shieldshock, cabin in the woods, waiting out a storm. Plenty of snuggling for warmth because Steve's a furnace and who is Darcy to complain?





	For Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heyliz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyliz/gifts).



> _hey darling! since you're taking prompts/requests now, how would you feel about some shieldshock? perhaps where they get stranded somewhere and need to survive until rescued. deserted island/cabin in the woods or whatever. acquaintances to lovers with some angst, shirtless steve, lots of ust and smut?_
> 
> I mean, why wouldn't I write something like that?

To be clear, Darcy doesn’t know Steve that well.

She knows of him, of course. It’s impossible to not know Captain America, from the cereal boxes and comic books she saw scattered throughout her childhood. Her father has an old yo-yo with Captain America saluting on its front, the star-spangled vibranium shield on the other side.

When he was found on the ice, it was declared the Story of the Century, which Tony Stark must really hate. For everything to coincide the way it did, Darcy leaving Culver to be with Jane and Erik in New Mexico, Thor’s hammer crash landing to Earth, Tony Stark declaring himself a superhero, Bruce Banner clobbering his way through Harlem and Steve being found in ice perfectly preserved… it’s staggering to Darcy sometimes.

She was an intern trying to finish her Bachelor’s degree and then she was part of something phenomenal, in her own insignificant way. The world feels smaller. And that’s not always a bad thing, Darcy just thinks it means allies are easier to find, as well as enemies.

She stays with Jane through it all, even when they’re sent to Norway and Darcy can’t speak the language, and in London where the weather is always dismal. When they return to the US to be part of the new Avengers facilities in New York, Darcy rejoices.

Then she makes a mistake of doing a teensy bit of hacking. Just, like… a little. A smidge. It’s not a big deal. She’s just curious as to where her iPod has been all those years.

The last time she hacked SHIELD they weren’t happy, but their priorities were elsewhere. Darcy was unsuccessful in finding her music stash. She knows it’s her fault entirely that she chose to transfer everything to a digital format, but hindsight is 20/20.

She hacks, and then she’s reprimanded officially, and Maria Hill shows up at the labs and Darcy half wishes hiding under her desk was enough to fool her.

“Darcy, I know you’re here, and I know what you did!”

Maria sounds peeved, but at least it’s not Director Fury-level peeved. She just gets this look on her face that reminds Darcy of disappointed college professors. Her stomach twists with guilt, albeit briefly before she calls out from under her desk.

“You’ll have to be specific! Could be a number of things, like – how I took the caramel coffee syrup from the kitchens without asking, how I took used three stamps yesterday without filing the paperwork yet –”

“Darcy, you know what I’m talking about!” Maria snaps. “You hacked the database _again_.”

Darcy grimaces beneath her desk, and then sighs to herself. She puts on her best smile and rises up, Maria’s eyes on her. Darcy raises her hands.

“Maria, _bella_ …”

“I’m not Italian,” Maria interjects. She crosses her arms.

“Worth a shot,” Darcy mutters, then smiles again. “I was testing the limits for the sake of –”

“If you finish that sentence with ‘this nation’s security’ I will send you to Amish country.”

Darcy’s eyes widen and she drops the friendly façade. The thought of her being without wifi or alcohol sends her reeling.

“No, please! Just send me to jail!”

“ _Don’t_ hack us again,” Maria says sternly.

Darcy looks at the floor. “Understood.”

Maria doesn’t leave immediately and Darcy waits, wondering if there’s something else.

Maria’s face softens slightly but Darcy knows she’s not about to be her best friend.

“We could use you elsewhere.”

“What?” Darcy asks, blinking.

She glances behind her at Jane who this whole time has been writing on a whiteboard without turning around.

“Don’t hack us, hack someone else, she means,” Jane says without pausing her scrawling equations.

“Who?” Darcy says to Maria. “Please don’t say HYDRA.”

The way Maria just stares back at her makes Darcy groan.

“Really? You have no-one else available?”

“We have plenty of people available, Darcy,” Maria retorts. “They’re just not as big of a pain in the ass as you.”

Darcy figures it’s kind of a compliment but Maria is reluctant to give it to her. She means she’s tenacious, which Darcy would say was accurate. It’s not easy to hack SHIELD per say, but the two times she’s done it required consistent determination. That and a few programs on her laptop.

“If I do this, can I have my iPod back?” Darcy asks. “Since that’s why I was hacking you in the first place. And the second time.”

Maria looks at the ceiling for a second and sighs.

“Fine.”

As Maria leaves, Jane finally stops writing and caps her marker, frowning.

“What’s the big deal about your iPod, anyway? There’s so much new music that’s come out since then.”

Darcy rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t get it. It’s got everything I need on it. Playlists for moods and scenarios, tons of bootleg stuff you can’t just stream online –”

“You’re going to hack a major terrorist network for an ancient piece of Apple tech?” Jane says dryly, which only causes Darcy to narrow her eyes.

“Yes.”

Darcy doesn’t call it a mission, she refers to it as a favour, until Maria sends her an email outlining some of the protocol of Operation Lying in Wait, which makes Darcy’s heart beat faster.

She’s to meet Captain Rogers a couple states over in the middle of the woods, and she’s not supposed to take anything with her, except a pack with necessary rations, a SHIELD certified laptop and her sunglasses.

She can’t even bring her own pillow, which makes Darcy want to beg for that jail cell again.

She catches a Greyhound Bus and then walks the rest of the way, finding Rogers at the rendezvous point, a diner that’s mostly deserted when she rocks up.

She slips in a booth and Steve joins her.

Again, she doesn’t really know this guy, but she gets the sense that her being a rookie is not what he wanted to deal with that week.

“Hey,” he says, and he nods at her pack. “You got extra socks?”

“Yeah, does Hill know there’s meant to be a blizzard tonight?” she asks, and he smirks at her.

“Doesn’t usually stop us,” he replies. “You got the M.O.?”

“It’s kind of vague to the point of nonsense, I felt,” Darcy says. All she remembers is that she needs to infiltrate a suspect HYDRA cell by planting a device close enough to their mark. “Are you sure there isn’t anyone else better to do this job? Like Natasha Romanoff?”

“She’s… busy,” Steve replies. He picks up his coffee mug and takes a sip.

Before this day, she’d never spoken to him before. They don’t run in the same circles. They come across one another occasionally but Darcy is almost always sequestered to the labs with Jane.

She takes in his image, his nondescript civilian clothes of a plain shirt and leather jacket with a navy blue cap and Aviator sunglasses only tell Darcy that he doesn’t try. He’s not like Tony Stark who she sees occasionally in ostentatious suit and sneaker combos with tinted prescription sunglasses.

That guy wears tie pins worth more than Darcy’s student debt, but Steve just looks comfortable blending into the background, except he doesn’t. He’s too handsome. He turns heads. Darcy likes that she’s got someone as handsome as him as her work buddy that day, even if this is over in a couple hours and they never speak again.

She pulls off her beanie and rubs her hands together. It’s fucking freezing if she’s honest, and Steve glances at her shivering opposite him.

“You want coffee?”

“Please. And then we can go.”

Steve raises the spare mug toward one of the women walking around with coffee pots. “He’ll be gone for the rest of the day, but –”

The waitress comes over and pours Darcy a cup of coffee and Steve passes it to her.

“You want to make sure we’re out of there quickly,” Darcy says, interrupting him.

He smiles briefly. “Well, yeah. I like being efficient.”

“Why did you get saddled with this job?” Darcy mutters, before taking a sip of coffee.

“This time of year people take time off, even spies,” he mutters.

“But not you?” Darcy says.

He shakes his head.

It boggles Darcy’s mind that Steve would rather be doing this job with her than be back in New York for the holidays.

She finishes her coffee quickly and they exit, Darcy leaving some notes on their table. Her pack digs into her back and she moves as fast as her legs allow her, and it doesn’t help that Steve takes long strides as they walk.

He has a pickup that he nods toward in the parking lot.

“To blend in,” Steve says.

“You don’t blend in,” Darcy says. It slips out and he gives a short laugh of surprise, which makes Darcy smile despite the cold.

She can see the air in front of her mouth as she breathes, and she’s grateful once she wrenches open the passenger side door. Steve takes her pack from her and throws it in the back, but he moves so fast Darcy doesn’t have the chance to thank him.

It doesn’t seem to be a big deal for him to do that sort of thing for her. Chivalry, maybe? Darcy doesn’t like to think about how low that bar is for her nowadays. The last date she was on resulted in a blowjob and a fast but furious ghosting.

She closes her eyes briefly, chastising herself for thinking about dates when she’s here on a job. She needs some level of professionalism for _once_ in her goddamn life.

She climbs in, closing the door and rubbing her hands together. Steve cranks up the heat though he seems unbothered and Darcy blows on her hands as she shivers.

“How are you not cold?”

“Serum,” he replies, not looking up from his map.

He has a literal map on his steering wheel like an explorer and Darcy remembers he’s old and probably prefers using a compass like a Boy Scout –

Maybe that’s an unfair assessment, but he studies the map before shoving it in the backseat. Darcy understands then that he’s committed it to memory. Somehow, and she’s guessing it’s the serum again, he’s able to process all of it and then put it away.

She thinks about what he means by serum, and how that’s supposed to explain everything about him. Darcy’s thoughts whirl with thoughts on metabolism, lean muscle mass and super strength. Her eyes stay on the road ahead as snow begins to fall.

Darcy shivers again and Steve glances at the dial on for the heater.

“Sorry, that’s as high as it goes.”

“It’s okay,” Darcy mutters. “I need to get used to it if we’re going to be in the thick of it later, anyway.”

“I have an extra jacket,” he says, his arm reaching into the backseat, his eyes never breaking contact with the road.

It’s his, it has to be, because it smells of him and Darcy takes it from him, their fingers brushing. He’s warm to the touch when Darcy’s distinctly not.

“Jesus,” he hisses. “You’re freezing.”

Darcy blushes, wrapping the jacket around her as she sinks lower into her seat.

“How much further?” she mutters.

“Three miles, then we have to hike a bit.”

“I’m going to fucking die,” Darcy mutters under her breath. She catches his eye for a second and she sees she amuses him.

She tries to think of a warm hearth, a snug bed, slippers and hot chocolate. Steve looks at her again and she blinks.

“What did you do to wind up with this job?” he asks.

“I may have pissed of Agent Hill,” Darcy replies carefully. She shivers. “She told me to use my skills for good rather than evil.”

“You good with computers?” Steve says.

Darcy snorts.

“What?” he says, a smile playing on his lips.

Darcy imagines leaning forward and kissing him, and the revelation is jarring – she’s not been this attracted to someone in a while and she hopes she’s not being too obvious. Darcy flirts with a lot of people but she’s usually being ironic, like whenever she touches Thor’s chest to examine his muscles.

“I’d say the majority of people you know are good with computers compared to you,” she says, glancing away back at the road. “No offense.”

Steve just shakes his head. “That’s kind of… an easy target.”

“What, you don’t type with two fingers like my grandma?”

He tries to look annoyed but he’s smiling just the same.

“Look, I know how to write an email and use a phone, so I’m doing pretty good.”

Darcy just chuckles, picturing him frowning in confusion at a brand new smartphone.

They fall silent but it doesn’t feel awkward. It’s almost pleasant.

They pull up next to a road sign and Steve looks around.

“Okay, this is far enough.”

“So what now?”

“You got a – a weapon?” Steve says, glancing at Darcy in her seat.

She tries to tamper down the feeling of his eyes all over her and she nods. Guns make Darcy feel particularly icky but since London she became better acquainted with them, and since Maria told her she’d be on this mission she had to be cleared for it with some target practice.

It still felt weird to take the pistol out of her pack, check it and then carry it in her hands as they wandered through the snow and brambles. Steve has the device for Darcy’s hack in his jacket and all she needs to do is whip out the tiny laptop hidden inside her own jacket to connect everything together.

It would be better to do it remotely but Darcy’s unlikely to make it through all the firewalls this guy most likely has in place, if he is as dangerous as they suspect him to be.

Darcy trusts that Steve knows more than he lets on, because he’s glancing around in places she wouldn’t think of. She doesn’t belong in this situation at all, especially since she itches for her tazer and for a place to hide.

Steve puts a finger to his lips as the cabin comes into view. They crouch, moving swiftly through the bushes now covered with snow as Steve keeps his eyes on the shape ahead.

“Darcy, be ready to broadcast when I take off, okay?” he murmurs.

It’s the first time he’s said her name and Darcy thinks about that for too long. She nods, biting her lip. She doesn’t think about the cold as much now that they’re armed and possibly in danger. By all accounts as Steve said, the guy was meant to be away from his cabin.

There’s a whoosh of air and Steve turns, flattening Darcy to the ground. It had to be a bullet, and Darcy sees where it hit, the bullet now embedded in the tree beside them.

Darcy’s heart is in her throat, Steve’s body pressed against hers. He’s shielding her from the firing. He drags her behind the tree and props her up. Darcy starts to hyperventilate, and Steve’s face is like stone.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she manages to whisper back.

He looks furious, and she’d hate to be on the wrong side of him any day of the week. She flicks some snow out of her hair, rubbing her nose with a gloved hand that shakes. Steve looks around, eyes narrowing.

“It won’t be just one guy.”

“HYDRA suspect, my ass,” Darcy mutters. She tries to breathe normally but fails. She wants to run, but they’re most likely surrounded.

“Yeah, must have been shitty intel,” Steve replies.

There’s a crack of a twig snapping to their right and Darcy glances up, seeing a man in black carrying a rifle.

He’s aiming at Steve and Darcy can’t hesitate. She places both hands on her gun and raises it to shoot. The man falls back and Steve goes wide-eyed.

Darcy’s sure it was a clean shot and he’s most likely dead.

“Was that him?” she whispers. Her words come out in a rush. She means the suspect.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes. “Thanks.”

Darcy shakes her head. She doesn’t need to thank her. She makes a face.

“I know I’m not supposed to shoot near your ears,” she says.

“’M fine,” he replies.

He’s still staring at her and Darcy attempts a wink, to try to lighten the mood.

“Didn’t think I could do that, huh?”

His drops his chin and lets out a breath of a laugh. “Yeah. Remind me to never piss you off.”

Darcy shakes all over and she knows it’s not just the cold. Steve stalks over to the suspect on the ground and nods back at Darcy.

Dead. She just killed someone. It wasn’t the time or place to suddenly turn pacifist so Darcy just nods, trying not to think about whether that guy had a family or someone who’d miss him.

“The shot from earlier was most likely…” Steve looks toward the snow in the distance and nods. “Yeah, from the front porch.”

They crouch and begin moving toward the cabin once more, and Darcy can feel her heart in her mouth. She can’t swallow easily and she shakes all over. She knows this might be a death trap, but most likely Steve will jump on top of her again to protect her.

She doesn’t want to be the way he goes. It would be so anticlimactic and frankly, _stupid_ – this was meant to be a reconnaissance job, not shooting fish in a barrel.

They reach the cabin and Steve kicks down the door. Darcy stays back, following him in with their guns raised.

“Clear.”

“Shit,” Darcy says, because she hears someone break a window. There’s a thud in the distance. “They’re running away.”

Steve takes off, and Darcy stays behind, jumping at every little sound. At one point, there’s a gunshot and Darcy starts, fumbling her weapon.

Her arms are sore from tensing them so long and she listens out for some sign of life. She has no idea how much time has passed.

She sees Steve run in with blood on his brow and her eyes widen. He’s panting, bending over. He’s steaming. There’s a whistle of the wind and bang of the back door slamming.

“Steve,” Darcy gasps, and she holsters her weapon before coming toward him, trying to gauge how badly he’s hurt.

“It’s really coming down out there, now,” he says, and he stills as Darcy touches his hairline, testing where he’s injured.

He hisses, grabbing her wrist. “It’s fine.”

Darcy flushes, stammering. “I-I- you’re hurt. Let me help.”

The blood streaming down his face makes her panic, but he seems unperturbed, taking inventory as he wanders around the small cabin with Darcy behind him.

“We might have to stay here and wait out the worst of the blizzard,” he mutters. He finally touches his cut on his forehead and smears blood. “They slashed the tries on the truck.”

“We don’t have spares?” Darcy asks. She’s still hovering, wishing he’d let her help.

“Not four,” he mutters. “And the storm means we’re stuck, otherwise I’d go alone.”

“You can’t leave me here alone,” Darcy mutters, and he nods.

She doesn’t like that he’s witnessing her begin to fold in herself because she feels like a burden but she has no choice. They’re together now and she can’t hide.

“You got a first aid kit?” Darcy says, and Steve glances toward the front door.

“I’ll get your pack and come back with everything.”

Darcy’s eyes widen. “Wait, are you sure you’ll come back?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replies, and he leaves just as abruptly as he arrived.

Darcy wanders around, then finds the broken window in the bathroom and bites her lip. It’s making one hell of a draught, and Steve’s right. She’s tempted to make a crappy Game of Thrones joke.

She doesn’t know if Steve would understand the reference, though.

The worst of her shaking has stopped by the time Steve comes back. He seems to have stopped bleeding but his shirt is ruined, the blood now brown down his front.

He shuts the door and puts her pack on the ground.

“Gimme the first aid kit,” Darcy says, her hand outstretched.

“I’m fine –”

“Shut up,” she says, and Steve just chuckles.

She points to the couch and he sits down, Darcy beside him. She leans toward him, wiping away some of the blood and cleaning the wound. He sucks in a breath. She knows it stings, but she wants to feel useful.

“I guess the hack will be easier inside his cabin,” she mutters. She tries not to think too much about how close she is in proximity to Steve. He keeps looking at her and she bites her lip, pretending she’s concentrating instead of trying to contain herself.

“Might be redundant,” he replies. His voice is soft and Darcy feels her stomach flip.

“I never –” she begins, and then she drops her hands, clearing her throat. “I never did something like that before.”

“Killed someone?” Steve says, and Darcy nods. “It’s a lot to process.”

“You were in a war,” Darcy says, and she feels her eyes sting suddenly. She feels like such a wuss. She’s surrounded by tough people in her job all the time – you’d think some of that would have brushed off on her.

“Hey, hey,” he says, and she blinks rapidly, his hand touching her wrist again. “It’s okay.”

“You’ll think I’m so stupid,” she adds, and she sniffles.

She puts down her swab and shakes her head.

“Why would I -?”

“I took this job because Hill promised my iPod that they took like, five years ago,” she says, glancing at the ceiling. She smiles wryly to herself. “It’s a thing where you put –”

“I _know_ what an iPod is,” he replies, and she glances back at him, seeing him amused more than judgemental. “I might be a hundred years-old but I know some things.”

Darcy snorts. “So you can see why that’s stupid.”

“Maria told me she trusted you’d make the right decisions,” Steve says.

Darcy blinks at him. “What?”

“Why else would you be here? Natasha’s not busy, Maria wanted to test you. This was meant to be just for Intel,” Steve goes on, and Darcy stares at him. “The only problem is we had no idea how deep in this guy was.”

He glances around, nodding toward the laptop on the kitchen table.

“There’s probably stuff on there we’d never dream of finding.”

Darcy looks at the first aid kit on her lap. “You want a bandage?”

“No, I’m fine. I heal fast, Darcy,” he murmurs. “But we need to build a fire.”

There’s some kindling and firewood inside and he stares at it for a few seconds.

“You don’t know if that’s enough,” Darcy says, before he can say it.

He gets up from the couch and investigates.

“Yeah, it’s not gonna be,” he mutters. “Right, I’ll go chop some.”

“ _What_?” Darcy squawks. “Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?”

“Some might say that,” Steve retorts, shrugging.

He disappears as Darcy goes into the kitchen corner and tries to boil some water. She hunts around for something to eat, and there’s not much. Beef jerky and some stale bread. Not even beans in a can.

“You wanna grab a squirrel too, for chow?” Darcy calls out, and there’s a distant laugh.

He comes back in with arms full of wood and Darcy’s eyes widen. He shuts the door with a kick and Darcy watches him lower everything to the floor with a series of thuds.

He stands back, and without warning takes off his shirt. He wipes the sweat from his face with his dirtied shirt and it sits on the floor with his discarded jacket. 

Darcy turns away, feeling as if it would be gratuitous to watch him build the fire without a shirt on. She makes them a pot of tea and glances at him every so often because she can’t help herself. He doesn’t seem bothered at all by the cold.

When the fire is healthy and bright, Darcy comes forward and sits in front of it, hands out.

“You made me tea?” Steve murmurs, and Darcy refuses to look him in the eye.

“Yeah.”

He pulls a flannel shirt on, leaving it unbottoned as he sits beside her. There’s no other light in the cabin and Darcy feels her face grow hot, either from their crossed knees touching or from the heat of the flames in front of them.

She thinks of the men outside, face down and dead in the snow and she shudders.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Darcy blushes.

“Yeah, just,” she glances at him. “I’m thinking about how long we have to be here with those bodies outside.”

“I tried the satellite phone,” he replies. “They can’t send a jet until the snow –”

“Yeah, I got that,” Darcy mutters. She lets out a sigh.

“You still cold?”

Darcy nods. “And there isn’t much to eat.”

There’s a brief silence and Darcy watches the flames. She’ll never complain about the cold ever again. At least back on the compound she has a heater in every room.

Her teeth begin to chatter. The tea in her mug isn’t enough to warm her. She thinks of the man with the rifle outside and shudders.

“Hey, come on,” Steve says, and he touches her shoulder.

Darcy jolts, tea almost spilling on her.

“No, don’t,” she says, sounding scared.

Steve pulls back, hand up. “Sorry, I just thought – I’m sorry. I shouldn’t touch you without asking. That was… rude. I’m sorry.”

He sounds genuinely concerned as Darcy turns toward him, and then covers her mouth with one hand to smother her snort.

“What, you thought we’d like… snuggle for warmth?” Darcy says, and Steve blinks.

He ducks his head, and he blushes, actually blushes at her words.

“Yeah, I swear it’s not me trying to – trying to get cute,” he manages to reply.

He clears his throat awkwardly and Darcy feels better, less tense. Her teeth still chatter and she shrugs a shoulder.

“I dunno, maybe trust your base instincts,” she says.

Their eyes meet and Darcy stares him down.

“Okay,” he says finally, throat bobbing.

He leans back, and Darcy’s eyes dip to the long line of his bare chest and stomach. He leans back on his elbows a little, and unfurls his legs.

Darcy takes a deep breath, managing to shuffle over on her knees. She sits in front of him, grabbing his arm with her spare hand, still holding her tea in the other.

His chest is against her back and she swallows. If she turns her head she’d bump his neck. She bites her lip, trying to not show the glee she feels inside.

“This isn’t bad,” she whispers. “For warmth.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

“You’re very warm,” she adds. “It’s… helpful.”

“Glad to be,” he mutters.

He adjusts his arm around her waist, knitting his fingers together around her middle. His crotch is against her ass and Darcy feels herself blush.

She drains the rest of her tea, trying to display more nonchalance.

“You were incredible, before,” Steve begins, and Darcy swallows her tea hard, and she coughs. Steve goes on as if she’s not doing anything stupid right in front of him. “I think you’re ready for more.”

“Does it get easier?” she murmurs, and then winces. She knows how stupid she sounds.

“No,” Steve says instantly, and Darcy nods. “…Yes. Don’t listen to me.”

She doesn’t know what he’s talking about. She feels safe and warm in his arms. He should know that by how she stops tensing against him. The longer they sit like this the easier it gets.

“We should eat.”

He grunts something intelligible against her. He might have drifted off when they fell silent for several minutes.

“Steve,” she murmurs, and she moves forward, turning her head to look up at him. “I’m serious. I’m starving.”

She pulls away, walking over to the kitchen corner and grabbing the beef jerky. She rips off a piece and swallows. It’s worse than she anticipates and Steve laughs, watching her grimace.

She walks over to him, pushing the same piece she chewed on under his nose. He takes a bite right where her mouth was before and Darcy stills, wondering what that means.

He seems fine with being all kinds of close to her.

“I decided I’m not that hungry,” she mutters, as Steve chews.

“Yeah, me neither.”

He eats more than her, and Darcy sits beside him, watching the fire.

“I’m tired,” she murmurs. “But it’s not that late.”

“Been a big day. You can go lie down.”

The thought of being apart from him is scary, and the revelation scares her. She doesn’t know Steve that well and she already craves his attachment.

“What about you?” she asks, and he blinks.

“The couch.”

“I’ll freeze without you,” she retorts. She blushes and she’s sure he sees it, but she levels his gaze.

He licks his lips. He looks away. “Okay.”

She follows her toward the bed and she pulls back the blankets. The sheets smell clean. She shivers, kicking off shoes and pulling off her jacket and sweater, before sitting on the bed with her back turned to Steve.

She hesitates, before unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down. She slips under the blankets, still shivering, while she hears Steve take off his pants and flannel shirt.

He joins her, fingers brushing her arm. He pulls her closer and Darcy goes tense once more, because there’s more skin to feel than fabric and she swallows. She squeezes her eyes shut.

He’s the big spoon and she feels warm once more, trying to regulate her breathing. She listens for him, to see if he falls asleep fast. He doesn’t.

-

She doesn’t remember drifting off, but she wakes sometime later, the whole room pitch black. She blinks, her eyes adjusting.

She remembers where she is and she stills, feeling something hard against her ass.

Steve’s big hand is wrapped around her wrist, with his lips grazing her neck. His other hand is under her side, pulling her against him.

Darcy rocks her hips for a second, wondering if -

Steve is definitely pressing an erection right against her ass. She can’t deny that. She feels her face flush and she bites her lip.

She blinks some more in the dark, wondering if she should move away. She knows she doesn’t want to. Steve Roger’s hard-on is digging into her rear end and she’s tempted to –

No, she can’t. He’ll push her off. But he’s the one rubbing up against her. Even if he did that in his sleep, she wasn’t the guilty one. She waits, then decides to move forward, away from his crotch.

He nuzzles her neck as she attempts to create distance and she feels her skin break out in goose bumps. It’s too good.

What’s the worst that can happen? He’d push her off and politely turn her down. Darcy holds her breath, backing into him slowly, feeling the length of him once again and she bites back a groan.

She rubs once, twice. She’s full of want.

Steve’s grip suddenly tightens on her wrist and he pushes forward against her. This only emboldens Darcy to rub her ass against his cock again and again, until Steve gasps in her ear.

“Fuck.”

She feels high with desire, her smile spreading as he makes a throaty moan. She waits for him to tell her to stop, but he doesn’t, he just drops her wrist and his hand falls to her front, fingers slipping down her stomach.

Darcy gasps as his fingers reach her slick cunt. He’s wide awake, finding her clit and pressing, rubbing her as his cock still rubs her ass.

“Are you – hnnn – getting back at me?” she whispers, her breath hitching.

He teases her to the edge, lips at her ear. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“Steve,” she gasps. “Please.”

She rocks against his hand and feels the rush all over down to her toes. She knows what she’s begging for. She wants to come and he’s got her right there, and he could have her screaming in no time if he wanted that.

He doesn’t pull away, lets her use his hand. She clenches on nothing, shuddering as she comes. Steve plants kisses along her jawline until she turns her head to kiss him. It’s clumsy but she groans against him, his enthusiasm obvious.

She’s never done something like this before, but she’s never killed a man before that day, either.

As she comes down, she moves a hand down to rub his crotch and Steve grunts against her mouth.

“Darcy –”

“Please. I want to return the favour.”

He huffs a laugh against her cheek. She takes her hand off him to fumble with her panties, pull them down and kicking them somewhere under the covers.

In the time it takes her to do that, his boxers are gone, and he pushes up one of her legs, nails biting into her thigh.

She feels the blunt tip of his cock brush up against her cunt and she hisses.

“Fuck, come on –”

They gasp together as he pushes inside. He’s bigger than she expected and Darcy starts babbling his name as he rocks into her, shallow at first.

He moans into her ear again and Darcy feels like her skin is on fire. He kneads one of her tits over her shirt and she pants.

He takes deeper strokes and she bites her lip.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Darcy – fuck, I gonna come.”

He drives into her over and over, and Darcy can only do so much to hold on. She cries out with each pound against her ass and she gnaws at her lip once it starts to quiver.

Steve reaches between them and pinches her clit and Darcy dissolves, clenching around him over and over. She tries to not curl in on herself as she recovers, only to have Steve closely follow her.

He holds her flush against his hip and comes, his mouth on her neck.

They lay there together, panting, and Darcy wipes some sweat from her upper lip.

“That’s one way to warm up again,” she murmurs.

Steve begins to laugh into her hair, his hand still on her hip.

-

Maria hands her the iPod when she returns from the trip. Steve watches as she puts in one earphone, offering him the other.

“Worth it?” Steve asks, after they listen to half a playlist, their hands joined.

“How dare you question that,” Darcy says with mock hurt.

They smile at one another as another song turns over. Darcy rests her head on his shoulder as they watch the snowfall from inside the labs.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompt me](https://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/post/184202416928/do-you-do-prompts)
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> Having the line "I'm not Italian" was probably my fave to write. 
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> [no please send me to jail](https://youtu.be/lfhS7meOZJw)


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